


Corner of the World 30: Power Play

by serafina20



Series: Corner of the World [33]
Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-03
Updated: 2011-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-17 12:04:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafina20/pseuds/serafina20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lionel tries to get Lex to leave Smallville through any means possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corner of the World 30: Power Play

Clark was lying on his back, eyes closed when he heard footsteps on the stairs of his loft. He smiled and stretched slightly, thinking that Lex must have come. It was Sunday evening, and, both busy with either work or school, they hadn't seen each other since Clark had left on Saturday morning after spending the night.

"Lex?" Clark called, opening his eyes.

"No. It's me," Whitney answered, his eyes roving half hungrily, half guiltily over Clark's bare chest. "Can I come in?"

He sat up quickly and grabbed his shirt. "Sure," Clark said as he pulled it over his head. "Come in." He rose and went to his bed, where his sweater was, and put that on as well. "How are you?" he asked when he was dressed.

Whitney seemed a bit unhappy, but he shook his head and forced a smile. "Fine. You?"

"Good." He hesitated, then added, "I was warm."

"And now you're cold?" Whitney asked pointedly. "Clark, this is your room; you're allowed to sit around half dressed. And you don't need to wear the sweater; I'm not going to do anything."

Guiltily, Clark picked at the hem of the sweater, looking at the floor. "I know."

"But you don't believe me. Otherwise you wouldn't feel the need to put the layers on. I mean, ok. I understand that shirt. If someone walked that I knew liked me walked in the room when I was shirtless, I might cover up. It's... polite, I guess."

Eyes on the floor, Clark said, "The shirt is because, yeah, it's polite. Otherwise I feel like maybe I'm, I don't know. Like showing off, or something."

"And the sweater?"

Grimacing, Clark searched for an excuse when suddenly Whitney said, "You know what? It's ok."

Startled, he looked up at the older boy.

"I'm sorry, Clark. I know that it's not really me, is it?"

Clark shook his head.

"Ok. Then, if it makes you feel comfortable, you do what you need." Then he smiled ruefully. "Just keep this in mind: I'm used to looking without touching. After all, I did date Lana."

"Yeah, but that was Lana," he countered, tentatively playful. "You didn't want to touch her."

The rueful smile turned into a full-fledged grin. "True, but let's not get into that right now. I was dropping by to see how things were with you."

Clark sat with his back against the bed, crossing his legs. "Good. Fine."

"How's school?"

"Easy. I've been busy all weekend doing the end of semester projects and stuff, but I'm mostly done."

Whitney crossed the room and sank down next to Clark, keeping a huge space between the two of them. "Oh. Are you going to the Spring Formal?" he asked, picking up a tuxedo catalogue.

"Yeah. I'm going with Chloe."

"Really? And what does Lex think of that?" Whitney crossed the room and sat by Clark, keeping a huge space between the two of them.

Clark shrugged. "He thinks it's a good idea. He knows that Chloe and I are best friends, and he likes her."

"So, he likes it when you do things like this? Go out with girls?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Clark said, cheeks warm. "He wants me to be able to do things that normal kids do. Not, like, date girls exactly, but hang out with my friends and go to school activities."

Whitney nodded. "Good. That makes me feel better about your relationship. Just because he's so much older than you. I was afraid that he might try and control your life."

"Lex would never do that," Clark said seriously.

"Good." Whitney smiled, but it was a wan smile.

Clark suddenly realized how tired Whitney looked. "Are you ok?"

He heaved a sigh and rubbed his eyes wearily. "Yeah, I guess. I'll be ok. I, uh, kind of got into a fight with my mom. I've been avoiding the house ever since." He grimaced. "I feel bad for what happened. I mean, we've been through a lot lately, you know? I didn't mean to hurt her, but I wound up doing it anyway."

"What happened?"

Whitney averted his eyes and reached into his back pocket. A look that Clark couldn't quite classify was on his face: part embarrassment, part fear, and part... part pride. Or something like pride.

He handed Clark a piece of paper without a word, then began tracing the pattern of the quilt on Clark's bed, still not meeting Clark's eyes.

Warily, Clark asked, "What's going on?"

"Just open it."

Still uncertain, Clark opened the paper. When he saw the words on the top, his stomach dropped. "United States Marine Corp?" He looked up at Whitney, hoping that he'd tell Clark it was all a joke.

Apparently it wasn't, because, if anything, Whitney looked even more proud of himself than before. And there was definitely pride in his voice when he said, "Yeah. I enlisted. I ship out on Saturday."

Not believing what he was hearing, Clark read the letter again. Then again. And again.

He was reading it for the tenth time when Whitney said, "Clark? Say something. Please."

"What do you want me to say?" Clark asked, tearing his eyes from the paper.

Whitney shrugged. "I don't know. Tell me what you're thinking."

"I think that you're gay."

"Well, yeah." Whitney's cheeks were bright red.

"The military doesn't like gay people."

"No, not really. But, don't ask, don't tell."

Frowning, Clark folded the paper. "But, you just realized that you are attracted to guys. You only just know."

"Yeah? What's your point?"

"Well, in the Marines you can't meet anyone. And be with them. Not really."

Whitney nodded. "I know. I'm not interested in meeting anyone right now, Clark."

"But don't you want to kind of, I don't know, explore being gay?"

"Yeah, I do. But the guy I want to do that with isn't interested in me, so I guess it's a moot point, now, isn't it?"

Clark flushed. "Whitney..."

"I'm not blaming you or anything," Whitney interrupted with a frustrated edge to his voice. "I'm sure you have your reasons for being with Lex. But I like you, and you don't feel the same way about me. Why should I stick around for that?"

"You shouldn't," Clark said quietly, looking at his hands. "But don't you think you should get used to being gay first?"

Whitney ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, it has been a little weird realizing that I like guys, but it's not a huge deal for me. Not compared to everything else I've gone through this year. Losing my dad is a huge deal. Having to take on more responsibility is a huge deal. Hell, even growing apart from my friends is a huge deal. It all gave me a new perspective on life, and being gay... in the grand scheme of things, I don't care. It's just part of who I am, and yeah, it's something that I just realized, but sitting around for months, thinking about it isn't going to make it any less real. Or," he added after a moment's thought, "any more real. I'm gay. That doesn't mean I stop living my life because of it."

Clark was silent a moment, trying to think of what to say to that. He pulled his truck out of his pocket and began rolling it on his thigh, deep in thought. "Uh," he said after a moment, clearing his throat. "Why the military? There are other things you can do, and still be gay at the same time."

"I can be gay and be a Marine!" Whitney exclaimed. "Or, at least, I can be a Marine and know that I'm attracted to men. It's not going to matter, because I'm not going to let it matter. No one will have to know when I'm there, and I won't have a problem because... it just won't. It's not like I'm looking for someone to be with right now. I want you, and I can't have you. So, instead, I'd rather concentrate on doing something with my life."

"What about college?" Clark asked, feeling strangely heavy. He wanted to argue that Whitney didn't know how he would react once he joined the service; that right now, it might seem easy to control his attractions, but it might not be the same in the real world. But he wasn't sure how to say it, so he kept quiet and desperately tried to think of alternatives to going so far away.

Whitney took the paper back and tucked it back into his pocket. "There's no money for college," he said simply. "It just wasn't something my family planned for very well. Without the scholarships, I'm pretty much stuck here. And that's not what I want."

"I thought you said that maybe your uncle was going to help."

"I don't want to be in debt to anyone. Plus, the only way I can go to college on their money is to live with my uncle, and I do not want to do that. Besides, it's not like I'm joining the Marines instead of college."

Clark frowned. "What? How can you go to college and do this at the same time?"

"I won't. I'll serve my term first, then they'll pay for at least a year. After that, I'm sure I can qualify for financial aid or maybe even get a scholarship." Whitney scooted a few inches closer to Clark. "Look, you know that I want to be a gym teacher, or even some sort of coach. It's what I've always planned to do if football didn't pan out. Now I'll just be taking a slightly different route to get there."

Clark scrubbed his hand through his hair, frustrated even though Whitney was making some sense. "But couldn't you wait until things calmed down?" he asked after a moment. "Just the summer, to settle into life without your dad before making such a drastic decision."

He shook his head. "Not any more, I can't. Besides, there's something else." Whitney reached into his pocket again and pulled a medal out. "I didn't show you this before, but I found it when I was going through my dad's stuff."

Almost reluctantly, Clark took the medal, turning it over in his hand. "You'd never seen it before?"

"No, my dad never showed me. I knew he fought in Vietnam, but I didn't know he was honored for anything. The more I think about it, the more I feel like he's trying to tell me something. He's telling me how to get out of Smallville and actually make something of my life. I want to make a difference, Clark; help people. This is how."

Clark's stomach twisted; he understood the need to help people. But, Clark was an alien: he was super strong and never got hurt. Whitney was... Whitney was human. Vulnerable. "But you might get killed," Clark said softly after a moment. "Would he really have wanted that?"

The light that had entered Whitney's eyes when he first starting talking about his decision abruptly extinguished. Face dark and closed off, he took the medal back. "Fine. Whatever. I should have known you wouldn't understand." He started to rise, but Clark grabbed his hand.

"I understand, Whitney," Clark insisted. "Really. But... you made this decision so fast. Are you sure it's the right one?"

Whitney rose, clutching the medal tightly in his fist. "Yes, I am. I'm more sure about this than I ever have been. I've enlisted in the Marines; I ship out on Saturday. And if you can't live with that, then that's fine. I thought that you'd be able to support me, to be my friend through this, when I really need one. But it looks like I was wrong." Whitney spun on his heel, stalking to the stairs. He stopped when he reached them, and turned back to Clark. "You know, I was going to ask if I could write you, but I've changed my mind. I think what I need, most of all, is to get the hell away from you. Good-bye, Clark." With those final words, Whitney stormed away.

Clark silently watched Whitney go, not sure what to say. Actually, he wasn't sure if there was anything left to say. In just a few short months, they had gone from being rivals, to tentative friends, to good friends, and now... Now it was gone.

"I understand, Whitney," Clark whispered, staring dully at the floor. "You want to be a hero. But you have to leave, and I might not see you ever again."

Everyone leaves. Everyone dies. And, eventually, Clark knew that he was going to be sitting in a cemetery, surrounded by the graves of everyone he ever loved. Alone.

"Clark?"

Dazedly, Clark looked up to see Lex crouching in front of him.

"W-Whitney's leaving," Clark whispered, near tears. "He's joined the Marines."

Lex's lips compressed into a thin line. Clark couldn't read the expression that passed over Lex's face before turning neutral, and he was too upset to care. When Lex took his hand and led him to the bed, Clark followed, curling against Lex, clutching his shirt tightly.

"What happened?" Lex asked as he stroked Clark's back soothingly.

After relaying the events of the conversation, Clark concluded, "And I don't know why. I mean, if he really believed in it all, that's one thing. I can respect wanting to fight for a cause you believe in. It's noble. But I'm so afraid that he's doing it to get away from me. He might get killed all because I don't want to be with him."

"It's not your fault," Lex said, a trifle sharply. "You can't control how Whitney feels or what he does. You were completely honest with him... well, as honest as you can be. You never lied about your feelings for him. Yes, things were confusing at the beginning; neither of you realized he was attracted to you. But it wasn't your fault. You're attractive, Clark, and people are going to be drawn to you. And," Lex sighed, his jaw tightening, "Whitney isn't bad looking either. I understand why you'd be attracted to him, but that didn't make him return those sentiments. It just happened. Don't feel guilty."

Clark sniffed. "I don't want him to go."

There was a short pause. Lex found Clark's hand and intertwined their fingers. "What upsets you more, Clark? That Whitney is leaving, or that Whitney is joining the Marines?"

Clark buried his face in Lex's neck, not answering.

 _Clark._

 _I don't want him to die. I want him to be happy, but I don't want him to leave and be killed._

Lex kissed his forehead, sliding further into Clark's mind until Kiptin formed around them. "I'm sure he doesn't want to die either, Clark. No one joins the Marines with that goal; at least, I hope they don't. I'm sure he wants to make a difference. Save the world. A lot like someone else I know." He carded his fingers through Clark's hair, and rolled over so Clark was lying on his back. After a moment, Clark pulled his head away from Lex's neck, gazing up at him.

"Whitney has to make his own choices, Clark," Lex said seriously. "I know that you would prefer that everyone take the safest jobs in the world and stay within running distance from you, but that isn't going to happen. Whitney is going to be a Marine. Chloe wants to be an investigative reporter. Pete... I don't know what Pete wants to be, but there's a chance that he'll move away and do something with an edge of danger too. That's just what happens. They aren't doing it to hurt you; they just want to live their life. And you have to let Whitney live his. He's your friend, not your boyfriend, and even then, you'd only have as much say over his life as he was willing to give."

Clark looked up at Lex, a horrible thought entering his mind. "Are you going to leave me too?"

"No." Lex kissed him. "I'm not going anywhere, angel." He smoothed Clark's hair down. "Do you want to stay friends with Whitney?"

"Yes," Clark whispered after a moment, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Then you have to accept his decision. You don't have to be happy with it, but you need to make amends before he leaves."

Clark sighed and wrapped his body around Lex's. "I wish life was easy."

Lex laughed, capturing Clark's lips as he did. "Believe me," he murmured when he broke the kiss. "So do I."

________________________________________

Clark stood uncertainly on the corner across from the Talon, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt. Whitney was in there, nursing a coffee, surrounded by friends near the front of the shop. Clark had scanned the place a few minutes ago, and had been standing across the street ever since, trying to convince himself to go into the Talon.

"But his friends are there," Clark muttered to himself, tapping his fingers on his leg. "He wouldn't want me to interrupt. They don't know we're friends."

It was a poor excuse, but right now, Clark was grasping at straws. Lex had stayed until nearly ten last night, trying to convince Clark that Whitney's leaving wasn't a personal reflection on Clark. People leave; it was a natural part of life. If Clark wanted to stay friends with Whitney, he had to apologize. And, more than that, he had to try and be understanding of Whitney's choice.

Deep down, Clark did understand. After Lex had left, Clark had gone online to research the Marines, and Whitney was right: the Marines would pay his college tuition for at least a year after Whitney completed his term of service. If Whitney was serious about honoring his father, and needed to get away before going to college, it probably was the best decision. It wasn't the one Clark would have made, but it wasn't his life.

"Ok," he said to himself. "Just walk across the street, tell Whitney you're sorry, and that you'll miss him. It's easy."

He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He could do this; he wouldn't let himself lose his friend.

With that thought, Clark stepped off the curb.

As if on cue, a car rounded the corner and stopped in front of him. One of the darkened back windows unrolled and Lionel gazed out, a small smile on his face.

"Get in the car, Clark," he said simply.

A frozen feeling swept over him, and, once again, Clark couldn't move.

Lionel lifted a capped syringe and showed it to him. "I suggest you do what I say. You wouldn't want to have a fainting spell, now, would you?"

When Clark still didn't move, Lionel reached out and took Clark's arm. With his free hand, he uncapped the syringe and placed it against the inside of Clark's wrist, right over a vein.

"Clark, it's up to you. You can be back home in time for supper, or the police can find your heavily drugged body in a barn surrounded by alcohol, needles, and used condoms. Which would you prefer?"

Catch twenty-two: If Clark didn't do anything, Lionel would try to inject him, the needle would break, and he would find out. If Clark broke away, he'd probably run too fast since he was scared, and Lionel would see him, and find out. But, if Clark got in the car, and allowed Lionel to do... well, whatever he wanted to do, at the very least Lex and Clark's family would be safe.

All of this flashed through his mind in a second, allowing him to reach his decision before Lionel noticed any hesitation and tried to inject him. Exhaling hard, Clark opened the door with his free hand. Somehow, Lionel managed to transfer his grip, keeping one hand on Clark until he was inside the car, door locked.

"Drive," Lionel instructed the driver before rolling up the privacy widow, leaving him and Clark effectively alone.

The car started and they began driving. Clark could barely hear the engine over the pounding of his heart. He'd already decided that if Lionel tried anything, Clark would open his mind and call Lex for help in case he froze. Until then, though, he wanted to hear what Lionel had to say; Lex tended to act rashly when it came to Lionel, and Clark didn't want to bring Lex into this unless he had to.

Lionel recapped the syringe and placed it in the inner pocket of his blazer. "You're too tense, Clark," he said, putting his hand on Clark's leg. "You need to relax."

Swallowing, Clark replied, "Somehow, I just don't feel like it right now."

Lionel raised an eyebrow. "No, I imagine you don't."

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Talk, Clark. Just talk." He removed his hand, and draped his arm casually over the back of the seat. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you."

Lionel smiled. "That's what I like about the Kents. No matter what the situation, they are unfailingly polite." He lightly brushed Clark's neck, then slid his hand down Clark's arm until he was tracing Clark's fingers, one by one. "Of course you know how I helped your father, years ago, when he ran away to Metropolis. Don't you, Clark?" He paused, lifting Clark's hand.

Clark cleared his throat. "Yeah. You told me, remember?"

"Yes, I do." Casually, he tilted his head back, gazing at the ceiling, as he continued stroking Clark's hand. "I had him run errands for me, and, on occasion, do certain favors. Once, as a favor, I told your father to hide under my desk and give me a blow job while I discussed the possibility of drafting him with the Shark's coach. Your father was very polite in his declination, but, of course, he did as I said." He glanced at Clark, almost casually setting Clark's hand down. "He always did as I said."

Clark swallowed hard, closing his eyes.

"Can you imagine, Clark, what it must have been like?" Lionel whispered, moving closer.

Almost against his will, Clark's eyes opened again. Lionel was leaning into him, eyes dark and intense. Penetrating. Clark could practically feel Lionel's eyes as they pinned him against the window. Trapped, he couldn't look away.

The corner of Lionel's lips twitched. "When he came to me, your father thought he was jaded. He believed himself to be ready for anything. But, to repeat the overused saying, you can take the farm boy off the farm." Instead of finishing, Lionel merely lifted his eyebrow. "No matter what I had him do, he was always. Polite." Still gazing into Clark's eyes, Lionel leaned into him, breathing against Clark's mouth lightly.

Breath catching, Clark forced himself to swallow again, squirming a little.

"I talked with the coach for almost fifteen minutes while your father worked for me under the desk. And, believe me, he worked very hard." He pulled his face away from Clark and leaned against the window, trapping Clark with his arm and body. "Afterwards, I asked him how he liked it. Your father, with my semen dripping off his chin, replied, 'It was an interesting experience, sir. Thank you.'" Lionel laughed in a way that Clark could only describe as "fondly."

Clark felt ill. He closed his eyes and tried to take a deep breath.

"Clark?" Lionel breathed as he drew Clark's hand up his leg. "How much like your father are you?"

Clark realized with a jolt of horror that his hand was now firmly pressed against Lionel's crotch. In fact, Lionel was pressing Clark's fingers so they practically curled around the hard length hidden beneath the expensive slacks.

Stomach lurching, Clark yanked his hand away. "No!" he said through gritted teeth, tears springing to his eyes.

Lionel grabbed Clark's hand and squeezed it, still leaning against the window, keeping their bodies close. "I find reliving old memories... stimulating. And, in some ways, you remind me so much of your father," he said.

Fighting the urge to break Lionel's hand, Clark _opened_ his mind and began casting about for Lex. His concentration was shot, so he couldn't call for help with words, but he hoped that if he could _touch_ Lex's mind, it would alert Lex that something was wrong.

Lionel moved the hand he had trapped back to his crotch and held it there. Then he began caressing Clark's neck, breaking the tangles in Clark's hair with his fingers. "You are so very lovely," he said softly. He traced a line from the back of Clark's neck to his temple, and tucked some hair behind Clark's ear. "My God. You're absolutely flawless. Perfect. But it must be more."

"What must be more?" Clark asked stiffly, pulling his hand away again, then curling it into a ball, hoping that Lionel wouldn't take it back.

There was a strange expression on Lionel's face, one that Clark couldn't quite decipher. "Whatever keeps Lex coming back to you," he replied. "It must be more than your looks. I understand the attraction, but I don't see why Lex would give up his future for you. I raised him to be stronger than that. And yet, Lex is acting like a lovesick fool. Over you." He dropped his arm from the window and slid his hand beneath Clark's shirt.

Clark flinched. "Don't touch me," he said through gritted teeth. He pulled Lionel's hand from under his shirt, and held it away from him.

Lionel grinned, shark-like. Leaning in close, he brushed his lips over Clark's face, so very lightly that Clark could barely feel them. His stomach twisted into a tight knot at Lionel's proximity.

"Tell me, Clark," Lionel said softly in his ear. "Do your parents know what happened between us?" His teeth grazed Clark's earlobe.

"Nothing happened between us," Clark gritted out through clenched teeth.

"You know what I mean." Lionel slipped his free hand under the front of Clark's shirt, sliding up his stomach.

"Lex knows. That's enough." Clark caught Lionel's hand and forced it back out from under his shirt. He was now holding both of Lionel's hands away from his body, mind still frantically casting around for Lex.

 _Clark!_ Lex's voice rang into his head.

Clark twitched. Still unable to focus his mind to talk to Lex and concentrate on what was going on at the same time, Clark simply opened himself as much as possible, and hoped Lex would be able to hear what was going on.

Unaware of the mental drama in Clark's head, Lionel raised an eyebrow, turning his hand over in Clark's so he could curl his fingers around Clark's hand. "Really? Where is he now, Clark? It's just you and me, and you don't seem to be doing a thing to get away from me."

"What do you want?" Clark asked, hoping to distract him as Lionel began to try and tug Clark's hand towards his crotch again.

Lionel nodded and opened both his hands, as if in a gesture of surrender. "You're right; down to business. We don't have much time, and I need something from you."

"What?" Clark asked.

 _Can you tell me where you are?_

Clark shook his head fractionally and managed to send a faint _No_ over the bond.

"Lex has a destiny to fulfill," Lionel was saying. "I sent him out here as a test, and he has passed. Earlier this month, I offered Lex a powerful and prestigious position in Metropolis, and he refused me. Why do you think that is, Clark?" Lionel ran his knuckles down Clark's jaw line.

Swallowing nervously, Clark replied, "I don't know, sir. Maybe he... he's not ready to go back. Maybe he feels like he has more to learn here."

Lionel shook his head and pulled slightly away. Reaching out to take Clark by the chin, he forced Clark to turn his head.

"Lex was meant for greater things than Smallville. He has a destiny, a great one. You do know that, don't you Clark?"

After a moment's hesitation, Clark nodded slowly.

"Then it is up to you to convince Lex to return to Metropolis."

"What?"

"Convince Lex to return to Metropolis. I've tried offering him a job, I've tried putting pressure on him, and now, before resorting to drastic measures, I'm turning to you. You know that this is best for him."

"No, I don't!" Clark said hotly.

 _Don't listen to anything he says, Clark. I am not leaving._

While Lionel frowned at him, Clark lifted his thumb to his mouth and began chewing. Managing to quell his fear, Clark focused his thoughts and sent back _You can hear?_

 _Barely._ Lex's voice sounded grim. _Can you look out the window so I can get an idea where you are?_

"Excuse me?" Lionel said evenly.

Fixing his eyes on the window behind Lionel, Clark said, "I don't know what's best for Lex. And I don't know if going back to Metropolis would be best for him. He likes it here, and he's told me that he likes the person he is out here. He's not going to leave unless something happens."

 _I can't tell where you are._ Lex's voice was sounding strained; long distance communication was still hard for him.

At Clark's last words, Lionel raised his eyebrow, a cruel smile playing around his lips. "Then make something happen, Clark. Make living in Smallville... distasteful for Lex."

 _What did he say?_ Clark could hardly hear Lex now, his voice was so faint.

 _To make living in Smallville distasteful for you. Do you think he wants me to break up with you or something?_ Clark asked as he wiped his palms off on his jeans.

 _Something along that line, yes. Clark..._ Lex's mental voice spluttered out, but Clark could still feel Lex's frustration through the link.

"Clark?" Lionel said when the silence began to drag out.

Clark cleared his throat. "I'm not going to break up with him, Mr. Luthor."

"You don't have to end your relationship with him permanently; just enough to get him out of Smallville."

"No."

Lionel smiled again, moving closer to Clark. "Lex must leave; I am adamant on this point. If you do not agree to help me, I will be forced to resort to drastic measures."

Swallowing hard, Clark asked, "Like what?"

He shrugged. "Lex won't remain in town if there is nothing for him to do. It isn't as if I need the plant; it wasn't even turning a profit until very recently."

"You would close the plant?" Clark said, aghast.

"A necessary move in order to ensure that Lex returns to Metropolis."

"But people need those jobs!"

"Then do this one small favor I ask of you."

Over the bond, Clark could feel Lex's anger flare. He sent a wave of reassurance to Lex, then shook his head. "I can't. It would hurt him."

"He'll get over it," Lionel said sharply.

"I..."

Clark was cut off as the car screeched to a halt. Both he and Lionel were thrown into the privacy glass as it did, Lionel grunting at the impact.

"What the hell is going on!" Lionel demanded, pulling away from the glass. His nose was bleeding.

 _Clark?_ Lex called faintly.

 _Wait. Something's happening._

They could hear someone shouting something, and another voice--Whitney?--snap something back.

"Open the damn door!"

"Go away, young man. This is none of your... what are you doing!"

The window next to Clark shattered suddenly, a crowbar smashing through inches from his head. He flinched reflexively, pulling away from the window. The crowbar cleared the glass out of the window before a hand reached in and unlocked the door.

Clark blinked as the door opened. It was Whitney. Whitney holding a crowbar, his mouth set in a thin line, eyes hard and angry.

"Get out of the car, Clark," he said evenly, eyes on Lionel.

"Don't worry, Mr. Luthor," the driver said, coming up behind Whitney with a gun.

Before he could pull the trigger, Whitney pivoted on his heel and slammed the crowbar down on the man's arm.

The driver dropped the gun, howling as he fell. "Fucking dammit!"

Whitney turned back, looking almost impassive except for the hard set of his jaw.

"Whi... What are you doing here?" Clark asked, catching himself before he said Whitney's name. It might not protect him in the long run, but Clark didn't want Lionel to hurt Whitney for whatever he was trying to do right now.

"Clark. Out. Now."

Lionel grabbed his arm. "Clark."

That's all Lionel had to say to freeze Clark in place, filled with uncertainty.

Whitney lifted the crowbar, brandishing it menacingly. "Do you want to test me, old man?"

There was a long, tense moment as Lionel and Whitney regarded each other. Shivers ran though Clark as he looked back and forth between the two; both sets of eyes were as hard as glass, and very dangerous. Clark hadn't seen Whitney look like that since Homecoming, and even then he hadn't been as frightening.

Maybe he really was cut out to be a solider.

Clark swallowed hard.

After a long moment, Lionel's lips curved into an almost self-satisfied smile. Eyes on Whitney, he said, "Very well, Clark; your knight in shining armor has arrived to take you away. I was done with you anyway. Remember what we talked about." He let go of Clark's arm.

All but scrambling to get out of the car, Clark almost fell to the ground. Whitney, still brandishing the crowbar, caught Clark with his free hand and helped him to his feet.

"I'm not going to break up with Lex or tell him to leave," Clark said to Lionel. "He makes his own decisions."

Lionel smirked. "Very well; you've made your choice, and I've made mine."

"Fine." He turned and walked away.

Whitney's truck was in front of the car, doors unlocked and engine running. Clark climbed into the passenger's seat, curling against the door once he was inside.

A moment later, Whitney got in as well. They drove away so quickly the tires squealed, leaving Lionel behind.

 _Lex?_

 _What happened?_ Now Lex's 'voice' not only sounded faint, but tired as well.

 _I can barely hear you, and I don't want you to tire yourself out. I'm safe; Whitney got me away. I'll have him take me home. I'll meet you there, ok?_

 _I'm on my way._

Clark partially raised his shields, afraid that if he kept himself too open, Lex would be so intent on what Clark was doing, that he'd drive himself to exhaustion. Even though Lex was the natural telepath, he still had problems with some aspects of communicating. He could telegraph and receive emotions over any distance, but his ability to communicate with words was shaky at best. And Lex still couldn't get into Kiptin unless he was asleep or extremely relaxed and near Clark.

Wiping his eyes, Clark turned his attention to Whitney. "How did you know where I was?" he asked softly, glancing at Whitney before fastening his eyes on his hands.

"I saw you get into the car," Whitney answered tersely. His hands were wrapped so tightly around the wheel, his knuckles were white. Jaw tense, he kept his eyes on the road, hardly breathing.

Clark pressed himself against the door. The danger was past: Clark was free of Lionel, and Lionel hadn't done anything or found out Clark's secret. And yet, now it was beginning to hit him. He'd gotten into the car with the man who'd tried to rape him. Clark had willingly climbed into the car with a man who, if he discovered Clark's secret, wouldn't hesitate to lock him up and experiment on him. He'd gotten in the car...

But he'd had to. If he hadn't, Lionel may have found out and hurt his family and Lex to get to Clark. There hadn't been any other choice that Clark had felt was acceptable.

He gasped, holding back tears. Tugging the sleeves of his shirt over his hands, Clark squeezed his eyes shut.

They drove for a few minutes, neither one saying anything. Clark concentrated on his breathing, trying not to cry. There was no need to anymore; he was safe. He was on his way to Lex, and everything was going to be ok.

Whitney pulled the car over and shut off the engine.

"Clark," he said softly, no longer sounding angry. "Hey, it's ok." He put his hand on Clark's arm.

Clark shook his head. "No, it's not. I mean, there must have been some other option. I could have called for help or something. Made a scene."

"You were scared." Whitney slid across the seat. "I was leaving the Talon when I saw you across the street. Your face completely shut down when the car pulled up to the curb. I've never seen you so scared, and I did something horrible to you. But you didn't look anything like you did today."

"I could have pulled away. Run across the street. " Clark wiped his nose with his sleeve. "It would have looked perfectly normal to run across the street."

"Clark, you can't second guess yourself. You did what you did; don't worry about what you could have done differently." Whitney sighed and ran his hand over Clark's hair. "Did he do anything to you? Hurt you? Touch you?"

Clark's face turned warm and he closed his eyes. He swallowed hard a few times, then whispered, "No."

"No?" Whitney sounded incredulous.

Clark looked at Whitney from under his eyelashes. "Not really," he clarified. "He wanted to talk."

Whitney sighed slightly and pet Clark's hair again. "He's... is he the one who tried to hurt you before?"

He nodded slowly, eyes shut again.

"Are you ok?"

Clark shrugged. "I'll be ok." Licking his lips, he whispered, "Thanks."

"Of course."

Whitney started to pull away, but Clark grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry," he said in a rush. "I'm sorry I got mad at you yesterday and said what I did. I just don't want you to leave. Not like this, not when I'm going to have to worry that you might be killed."

His face softening, Whitney shook his head. "But it's what I want to do, Clark. I'm willing to take that risk in order to be something greater than I am now."

"But what if you get killed?"

"Then I get killed knowing that I fought to make this world safer for the people I care about. For you."

Clark flushed and looked away. "I thought you wanted to get away from me."

"No. Well, yes, because I need to get over you. But I didn't choose this because of you. I did it for me. If I stay in Smallville, even for the summer, I'm afraid I'll stay forever. It's so easy to get trapped in a life without realizing it. When I found my father's medal, I realized that there was another option. I have to do this, Clark. I believe in the cause, and I need the help. I'll get to go to college, and I'll have gotten to do something that I really believe in." Whitney gently urged Clark to turn his head, then looked earnestly into his eyes. "Can you understand that? And... can you be supportive? Please?"

"Whitney..."

"I mean, my mom's totally freaked, and one of my aunts has sworn she will never speak to me again because she doesn't believe in war, and my friends don't understand and all of that doesn't matter--well, my mom does, but everything else I could deal with if you could understand. I... I know we can't be together, but..."

Clark put his hand over Whitney's mouth. "Whitney!"

Whitney stopped talking.

Taking a deep breath, Clark said, "I'm scared for you, Whitney. And I wish you could find yourself in a safer way. Some way where you might meet someone who deserves you and makes you happy. And where you didn't have the chance of getting killed every day. But I can't make these decisions for you; it's your life. So... so I'll have to support you no matter what you do."

A smile broke out on Whitney's face. He removed Clark's hand and squeezed it tightly in his. "Thank you, Clark. It means a lot."

"I know." He squeezed Whitney's hand, cheeks warm. "And thanks for the rescue."

"Anytime."

________________________________________

Lex watched as Whitney pulled into the driveway of the Kent's house. He and Clark exchanged a few words before Whitney glanced at Lex. His eyes were noticeably cool, but he nodded in greeting.

Lex nodded back, face neutral.

Clark smiled at Whitney then climbed out of the car. He watched as Whitney pulled away, waving once before the truck turned down the road. When it was gone, Clark's shoulders raised and lowered in a sigh.

When he turned to Lex, Clark looked exhausted.

"Are you ok?" Lex demanded, going to him.

"Yeah." Clark wrapped his arms around Lex and buried his face in his neck. _I'm ok. You heard what he said?_

 _Mostly. Did he do anything to you?_

"No." Clark pulled away, taking Lex's hand. "Not really." He tried to walk to the house, but Lex refused to move, tugging Clark back. "What?"

"You're lying."

Clark shook his head. "No, I'm not. I mean, there were a few caresses to throw me off guard, but I don't think he was really going to... well. You know. Not really." He began chewing his bottom lip.

Lex reached out and gently touched Clark's face, asking with his eyes for Clark to tell him what was had happened. After a moment, Clark sighed and relented.

 _He touched me. Well, he made me touch him. And told me something about Dad that I didn't want to know. I..._ Clark broke off and shrugged a bit helplessly.

"Clark," Lex whispered, pain in his chest. "Why didn't you call me sooner?"

"I was afraid that something bad would happen. I wanted to hear what he had to say without worrying you. I thought that, maybe, he did just want to talk and was afraid if I called for help right away, something would happen. The two of you would fight and he'd hurt you or something. Then he started trying to scare me; when it went to far, I called."

"Are you going to be ok?"

"Yeah." Clark nodded and smiled very faintly. "I mean, it's not all hearts and flowers or anything, but I'm not going to fall apart. I promise."

Studying Clark a moment longer, Lex touched Clark's mind. His emotions matched his words: he wasn't happy, and there was anger, but at least it was mostly directed at Lionel and not himself.

Lex nodded and squeezed Clark's hand. "Ok, then. But we will talk about it at some point."

"Ok," Clark agreed. He squeezed Lex's hand back, then said, "I know he just wanted to scare me. He thought that doing all that would convince me to try and make you go back to Metropolis."

"I caught that," Lex said softly. "What are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

Hitching his shoulder, Lex said, "Do you think I should go back?

"What do you think, Lex?" Clark sat on the stairs of the porch, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"I don't know. He's threatening to close the plant." Lex sat down as well, hand still in Clark's. "I employ over two thousand people; that's a lot of jobs that will be lost."

Clark looked at Lex for a long moment, and shook his head. "I'm not going to make the decision for you. It's not my job. I told you before, I can't always be your moral compass. You have to be able to figure out what's right for yourself."

A sinking feeling in his stomach, Lex nodded and pulled his hand away. "So you think I should go to Metropolis to save the jobs."

"I think that you should do what you think is right," Clark corrected gently, putting his arm around Lex's shoulders.

"And what's right is to save people's jobs."

"I don't know what's right, Lex. Yes, people need those jobs, and if you can save them, you should. But... I don't like what your father did. He's... he's using me--the whole town, really--to manipulate you. I don't want him to be allowed to do that; it's not fair to you or me. The problem is, if you go back to Metropolis so he doesn't hurt me or close the plant, he wins. If you stay and he closes the plant so you have to go back, he wins. We need another option." Clark made a face, then added, "But I'm not telling you that you shouldn't go back. Or stay."

Lex patted Clark on the knee. "You're outlining my own thoughts, Clark, not thinking for me. Because you are right; we do need another option." He tapped the fingers of his free hand on his thigh. "If he's not going to give me one, I'll have to come up with one myself. Because I'm not ready to leave."

A smile broke out on Clark's face, lighting him up. "And I'm not ready to give you up."

Leaning in, Lex kissed Clark sweetly. "I'll figure something out. Dad will have to wait a few days before he can close the plant, unless he's already drawn up the plans. I don't think he has to run it past the board first, but he'd better have figures ready right after he announces the closure. Since Dominic hasn't warned me about the incipient closure, I'm going to assume I have a few days. That's plenty of time for me to prepare a countermove."

"So, you'll be ok?"

Lex nodded and smiled. "I'll be fine, Clark. When Dad makes his move, I'll be ready."

________________________________________

Lex was going to kill his father. And Dominic Senatori. In fact, he didn't know who to kill first: Lionel, for closing the plant before Lex had a chance to come up with a viable plan to stop him, or Dominic, for not informing Lex that Lionel was going to close the plant that day.

Or, maybe, he'd just kill Damien for forgetting to remind Lex about his father's speech until that morning. Yes, it had been scheduled for almost a month, but Lex had been under a lot of stress what with Chloe being kidnapped, Nixon coming to town, and Lex finding the piece of Clark's ship. The supposed pep talk his father had scheduled had completely slipped his mind.

Murder was definitely on Lex's mind. And the fact that he'd been blamed for the plant's failure--which was bullshit anyway since Lex had managed to make the plant turn a profit months ago--only made his fantasies of murder more imaginative.

"Sir?" Damien said softly, coming up behind Lex.

"Tell Gabe that I'll contact him soon. And to reassure the workers that they will receive pay for the rest of the week."

Damien nodded. "Very good." He left to deliver the instructions.

Lex turned sharply on his heel and walked briskly inside the plant to his office. He walked with his head high, face neutral, blocking out the jeers and curses that were flung at him as he passed. The plant's closing was not his fault, and Lex refused to feel guilty about his father's actions. Guilt would come if, and only if, Lex was unable to salvage the situation. Until then, he would remain aloof and not hear what others had to say.

"Get Dominic Senatori on the phone," Lex told his secretary as he passed her.

"Yes, sir."

He went into the office and pulled out a bottle of water, downing it angrily.

His phone beeped, and he picked it up. "Dominic."

"Hello, Lex. Is there something I can do for you?" Dominic asked.

The corner of Lex's mouth twitched as he thought of the things he would like to do to Dominic when he got his hands on him. "Is there something you might like to tell me, Dom? Anything at all? Anything, oh, important?"

There was a slight hesitation. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Give me a fucking break, Dominic. How is it that you can tell me what Dad wore the last time he went out with Rachel Emerson, but you neglected to tell me a very small, insignificant detail about my fucking plant?"

Another pause, then Dominic asked very carefully, "Is this about your father closing the plant?"

"Is it about my father closing the plant? Of course it is!" Lex slammed his water onto the desk. "I don't get it, Dominic; I thought you wanted out of my father's clutches. What could he possibly have offered you that was better than anything I could?"

"Nothing. There is nothing your father could do to me that would make me turn my back on you. I am completely and utterly loyal, Lex."

"You have a funny way of showing it. I tried to get a hold of you all night, and you never answered my calls."

"Damn," Dominic whispered. "I'm sorry, Lex, but I was up late and couldn't call you back. I meant to do so first thing in the morning, but I overslept."

"Did you know Dad was going to close the plant?"

"Yes," Dominic replied, sounding confused. "He told me last night after he returned from seeing you."

Lex hesitated; when Dad had made the announcement today, Lex had assumed that he'd had the plans drawn up before taking Clark. It had never occurred to him that it was actually a last minute decision. "Why didn't you call and tell me that he was coming?" he asked, switching tactics. "I would have been better prepared had you."

Dominic sighed. "I didn't call you because I didn't know. Lionel didn't tell me where he was going when he left. He didn't even tell me he was going. I found out three hours later when I tried to call him." He hesitated, then asked, "He did talk to you yesterday, didn't he?"

"No, he didn't. He came down to threaten Clark." Lex rubbed the bridge of his nose. "When dad told you, did he show you a formal proposal?"

"No." Dominic's voice slightly sour. "That's why I was up all night. He's presenting his decision to the board this afternoon, so I've been trying to get everything done."

"Did he give you a reason?"

"Just that it was the only way you would agree to leave Smallville." Dominic said the last slowly, then sighed.

Lex rolled his eyes. "And you bought that?"

"I didn't look too closely at the statement; I had work to do. I swear I didn't know before."

"I believe you. I think you're an idiot, but I believe you."

"What is my transgression?"

"You don't have any common sense. Think about it. First of all, the entire time I've been here, I've been finding ways to save jobs: why would I suddenly agree to putting thousands out of work? Second, since when does Dad drive down here? He always takes the helicopter, which means he didn't want anyone to know where he was going. Which means he didn't want me to know he was in town."

"Lex..."

"The fact that he didn't tell anyone," Lex continued, pretending that he hadn't heard Dominic try to interrupt, "means that he suspects me of having spies in the office. And that means that you have to watch yourself."

"He doesn't suspect me. I'm not important enough."

"Dominic..."

"Let me rephrase that," he interrupted. "Your father only sees me as being valuable in the power play between himself and Sir Harry. Other than that, I am only one of many people who take care of business for him. I do not have the intimate knowledge of him that Damien has of you. Yes, I'm the most trusted of his drones, and, when all is said and done, I know more about him than anyone else, but he doesn't know that. I gather my information from many people, none of whom would think to report my questions to Lionel. He doesn't think you would have any interest in me or my knowledge because he doesn't know the extent of my knowledge."

"How do you know?"

Bitter laughter floated over the line. "Observation, questions I've asked. If your father suspected that I was leaking information to you, there would be some sign."

Lex rubbed his eyes. "I think that him sneaking off to Smallville without telling you is a sign."

"He didn't tell anyone. The only person who knew where he was going was the driver. His secretary only knew he was going out for a while. If he knew who to suspect, he would have let someone else know, someone he knew he could trust. But he can't trust anyone, so he told no one." Dominic hesitated a moment before asking, "Does this mean that you will be returning to Metropolis?'

"No, it doesn't. Damien will call you later with the plans; we're going to need your help."

"Of course; anything I can do."

Lex nodded. "Well, right now, just wait for our call." With that, Lex hung up and slammed his fist on the desk.

The door opened and Damien stepped in. "Sir?"

"Dad actually waited until yesterday night to announce to Dominic he was closing the plant," Lex said. "I don't understand why he would do that. And why does he want me back so much anyway?"

Damien closed the door behind him, and leaned against it. "I've been wondering that as well. I almost wonder if it's not that he wants you in Metropolis so much as he wants you away from Clark."

Lex tapped his fingers on the desk. "Why?"

"You've changed since you've met Clark, and allowed your father to have less control over you in many ways. Yes, you rebelled against him for many years, but that was expected. Many children of rich and powerful people go through periods of intense rebellion, only to return to the fold later in life. Lionel assumed that, despite your transgressions, you'd eventually settle down. Now, though, you're trying to break apart and live your own life, not only with your side research, but in your choice of companions. Lionel wants you to remain dependent on him; instead, you are growing away from him."

"I guess," Lex said doubtfully.

"Of course, he could be trying to separate you from Clark because he's interested in Clark. He believes Clark to be a mutant, after all, and the research on the meteor rocks you've been showing him might not be enough to keep him satisfied."

Nodding, Lex said, "We never got a bodyguard for Clark. I wanted to do that after Dad took him away."

Damien raised an eyebrow. "The problem with a bodyguard is that he would be assigned to watch Clark, and Clark is rarely where one would expect him to be."

"There is that." He sighed and shook his head. "Ok, I can't worry about Clark right now; I have this to worry about. Are we going to be able to buy the plant?"

"Yes; it will be difficult, but it can be accomplished."

Lex nodded. "Then do whatever it takes. No one is ever going to force me to do anything, especially not my father."

________________________________________

The octagonal disk on Lex's desk had made its presence known the moment Clark had stepped in the room. The house keeper had let him in, smiling sweetly as she shut the door, not noticing the panic that crept over Clark has he stood just inside Lex's office.

And that was before he'd even seen the disk.

He couldn't explain the panic, nor the cold, heavy lump that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Wandering around the room restlessly hadn't relieved the feeling. That was, until he got to the desk. And then he'd seen it.

A small octagon. Metal. About the size and shape... no, exactly the size and shape as the missing piece of the ship.

His fingers itched to wrap themselves around the disk, but his mind screamed at him to turn away. Turn away from the desk, walk out of the room, and go home. He would deal with everything tomorrow, really. But right now, he needed to walk away.

He was, in fact, making progress on that desire. His feet were beginning to obey his command to move when the door opened.

"Sorry about the wait, Clark," Lex said as he walked quickly across the room the Clark. "I've been going nonstop all day."

Broken out of his reverie, Clark turned. "It's ok. I heard about what happened."

Lex smiled lopsidedly. "Are they hanging me in effigy in the center of town yet?"

"Not quite. But I think I saw them getting the tar and feathers ready."

"Luckily, I know someone who can run really fast." Lex came to a halt in front of Clark, and wrapped his arm around him. "Hey." He kissed Clark softly, almost chastely.

Clark smiled into the kiss, before the smile melted away. "I can't believe he actually did it. Closed the plant and fired all those people."

"That's Dad. He doesn't care who gets caught in the crossfire of our war; all he sees is the victory."

"Would it have been better if I'd done what he said? Or at least just pretended that I was going to make you leave?"

"Absolutely not," Lex answered. "You were right yesterday when you said that we couldn't let him manipulate us like this. This is my life, and I have the right to make the decisions. And besides, this might be a good thing. I'm going to try and buy the plant. That way I'll be able to save the jobs and break away from him for good. It's going to turn out ok, Clark. Really."

Clark chewed on his lower lip uncertainly.

"What is it?"

"What if it doesn't work?" he asked.

Lex frowned, obviously perturbed that Clark doubted him. He thought a moment, then shrugged. "Then I'll figure out something else."

"But you'll have to leave."

Lex kissed him again, shaking his head as he did. "I won't leave. No matter what happens, I'm not going back to Metropolis to work for my father. I'll find something else." Lex pulled away from Clark.

"What else can you do?"

"I don't know." He was silent for a minute, then his face brightened. "Maybe I can go back to college, get my PhD in chemistry like I always wanted to. It's something that I've always wanted to do, but couldn't because of Dad's plans. Or, if not," he added wryly, "I can open a chain of coffee shops, like the Talon." He grinned.

"Uh, no," Clark said, returning Lex's grin. "After all, there's only one Lana, and the place couldn't run without her."

"Thank God there's only one Lana. Can you imagine an army of them?"

Clark allowed his face to look dreamy as he 'contemplated' that, cracking up when Lex smacked him in the stomach. "I was just kidding," he assured Lex.

"You'd better be." Lex mock glared a moment, then took Clark's hand, leading him to the desk. Still keeping hold of Clark's hand, Lex walked to the other side. "I need to work," he said with a sigh, sinking into his chair.

Clark squeezed Lex's hand, sitting across from him. "I can go. I don't want to bother you."

Lex shook his head. "You wouldn't. I enjoy working when you're around; it's... homey. You can do homework or something."

"Sure," said as he sat. He didn't have any homework, but he was in the middle of a book, so he could put off chores for an hour or two and read.

"Great." Lex kissed Clark's hand, and released it.

When it dropped to the desk, Clark's fingers brushed against the metal disk. He yanked his hand away as if burned. The urge to pick it up pounded through him, but he fought it away as his face grew warm.

Lex narrowed his eyes, watching Clark. "Clark," he said, picking the disk up. "I found this. I think..."

"Wow, I totally forgot I need to go," Clark said suddenly, checking his watch. "I have some chores to finish, and then I'm supposed to meet Chloe at the Talon. I'll talk to you tonight; call me whenever you can." He darted forward, kissed Lex quickly as he shoved Lex's arm down, then sped away.

 _Clark!_

Clark shut down the link and continued towards home. Away from the disk, and back to where his parents were content to let him hide.

________________________________________

"My dad's talking about moving us back to Metropolis," Chloe said. "Permanently."

The look on Clark's face was enough to make Chloe wish she were old enough to do anything she wanted. Because, if she could, she would tell her father that there was no way in hell she was leaving Smallville, and he could go back to Metropolis himself. Which was what she had wanted to do in the first place. After all, Smallville might be small and quaint compared to Metropolis, but at least here Chloe was important. She had a job and power. People knew who she was: the editor of the school newspaper.

She'd gotten the position by chance anyway. The old editor had graduated last year, and no one wanted to take over the position. Kwan was planning on closing the paper until Chloe convinced him that she could do the job.

And she did. Quite well. Chloe really didn't want to give that up.

But, even more, she didn't want to hurt Clark. And that was apparently exactly what she had just done.

"You're leaving?" he said after a long pause.

Chloe nodded slowly. "Yeah. Well, maybe. Dad hasn't made any firm plans yet, but I think he's pretty much made up his mind to go back to the city. He thinks it'll be easier to find a job and... maybe it'd be better for me. But I don't think I want to go, you know?"

"I thought you'd be dying to get back to civilization," Clark said dully, not meeting her eyes.

It hurt, but was expected. After all, Chloe had spent the first three months after moving to Smallville complaining about it. She'd regaled Clark with tales of Metropolis, stressing how much more exciting the city was compared to the small town.

At least, that was how she felt before she'd found out about the meteors. Once she'd started tracing the strange occurrences in town to the meteor rocks, life had become much more interesting. She had even begun to like Smallville.

But that wasn't why she was heartbroken to leave. Smallville, she could leave in a heartbeat. It was harder to leave Clark.

Brushing her hair back, Chloe said, "Yeah, well. That's how I used to feel. Before I made friends. Now I'm afraid I'll leave and everyone will forget all about me."

"Never," Clark said quickly, finally looking at her.

"Will you miss me?"

Clark nodded and took her hand. "You're my best friend, Chloe. I'd be lost without you."

Chloe's smile wavered, but she squeezed his hand back. "Yeah," she managed to get out through the lump in her throat. "Same here."

________________________________________

Clark watched Nixon walk away, and then turned to Lex. "I don't want to know," he said simply.

Lex frowned, glancing at the door, then back at Clark. "You didn't buy that, did you? I was just trying to lull Nixon into a false sense of security. I'm through with threaten..."

Clark walked away before Lex finished his sentence. His palms were sweating against the paper coffee cup he was holding, and his stomach queasy.

That man, Nixon, knew what he was. Nixon knew he was an alien. Or, he suspected it at any rate. And Lex had... had done something to let him know. He wasn't sure what, but Lex was so obviously involved. Sure, Lex was sorry, but that wasn't the point. The point was Lex had gotten a stranger involved in the first place.

And now Clark's secret was going to be exposed. Maybe.

"Look, I'm sorry," Lex said, appearing at Clark's side. "Clark, stop." He grabbed Clark by the arm, halting his progress.

Blinking, Clark looked around. He was half way down the street, heading towards home. He didn't even remember leaving the Talon.

"Look at me, Clark." Lex's voice was low.

After a moment, Clark did.

"I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, but I hired Nixon before..."

"I don't care," Clark interrupted.

Lex blinked. "Clark..."

"I don't care, Lex. Let me guess: you hired him months ago. Before we..." Clark broke off and glanced around. "Drive me home."

"Good idea."

They walked quickly down the street and climbed into Lex's car.

When they were safely out of town, Clark said, "You hired him before you really knew me. And you probably didn't approach him, did you?"

"No. He tried to blackmail me after Tina Greer robbed the bank disguised as me."

Clark nodded. "And, what? You convinced him it was in his best interest not to try? And that it would be better for him to work for you?"

Lex nodded, eyes guarded.

"I've seen the articles he's written about you in the Ledger. I guess that investigating me was something extra for you?"

"He wasn't investigating you. He was investigating the crash. I needed to know how I survived."

Shaking his head, Clark said, "It doesn't matter, now. Whatever you hired him to do, he's not doing it anymore. Now he's investigating me." He lifted his thumb to his mouth and began gnawing on it. "This morning the truck blew up while I was in it. I think he set that up."

"Fuck." He shook his head, hands tightening on the wheel. "I wondered what that was."

"Wondered what what was?"

"I was in the shower when something exploded in my head. One moment there was nothing much going on--you know, just my own whirling thoughts that have been disrupted my sleep and giving me a headache--and then, bang! There was a white-hot flash, loud noise, and I smacked my head on the shower wall."

"Are you ok?"

Lex smiled sheepishly as he shifted gears. "Yes, I'm fine. I was just startled."

Clark rested his hand on Lex's wrist and caressed the baby fine skin on the underside with his thumb. "I'm sorry; I didn't realize I was open."

"We were both fairly relaxed at the moment. My shields were completely down; I have been keeping tabs on you, just in case Dad came back."

"Then why didn't you call?"

Lex shrugged. "I wasn't sure if it was a farming accident, or something that happened occasionally, or what. I figured that if you were in trouble, I'd know. You didn't seem particularly panicked, your mother didn't call to say you or your dad were hurt, so I assumed everything was all right."

"I'm fine. It didn't hurt me at all."

"No burns? Bumps?"

"Nope. I didn't even feel the heat of the blast."

Lex shook his head, exhaling through his teeth. "Is that normal? I thought I bruised you when I... well, you know what Rickman made me do."

"No, it's not normal. Or it wasn't." Clark chewed on his free thumb harder. "I don't know what's normal anymore," he added, getting upset.

Lex turned down the lane leading towards Clark's house. "Can I ask you why you didn't want to know why I hired Nixon?" he asked after a moment.

Grateful that Lex wasn't going to keep asking about Clark's abilities, but still not happy with the subject, he sighed. "Because I don't want to fight. And I feel like I'm supposed to be mad at you for doing this, but I don't want to be." I don't want to lose you too, he concluded silently.

Lex turned his hand over so he was holding Clark's. "I'm not going to leave, Clark."

"I know. And I'm sorry I still need to hear you say that. It's just, Whitney's leaving tomorrow, and Chloe might be leaving. I know you say you aren't going anywhere, but I'm afraid that you'll end up talking to your dad and he'll promise to open the plant if you go back."

"Believe me, he's not going to do that," Lex said. "I'm not leaving. Not right now." Pulling up the driveway to the Kent's house, Lex stopped the car and shut off the engine. He unbuckled his belt and turned to Clark. "I'm not going anywhere, Clark. Even if, for some unfathomable reason, I am not able to buy the plant, I'll figure something out. And, on the off chance I have to leave town for a bit, I'm not leaving you. You're still here." Lex tapped his forehead, then repeated the action on Clark. "And I'm here. You're not alone."

Clark nodded, willing himself to believe Lex. Because he was right; Lex was always there. Even when their shields were up, Clark could always sense Lex.

But he was so terrified of being alone. Of being left behind, and...

"Clark, stop." Easing over the stick shift, Lex sat on Clark's lap. He took Clark's face in his hands. "What's going on?"

He took a deep breath, shaking his head. "I've been dreaming," he said after a moment, anxious. "That... that disk. It's part of my ship."

Lex nodded. "I know. That's why I tried to give it to you."

"I don't want it." Clark looked at Lex, shaking his head. "Please. Keep it. Hide it. Don't bring it out again."

Lex's eyes flashed. "Clark. It belongs to you. You need..."

"I'm not ready!"

"When the hell will you be ready?" Lex demanded.

"I don't know! I... I've tried, Lex, and I..."

"Clark, saying that you're an alien every three weeks before having sex isn't trying. The only time you ever seem to try and face who you are is right before you climb into my bed. I've never even gotten to see your ship."

Clark felt his face crumble and tears start to fill his eyes. "Can we not do this now?" he asked. "This is a whole other issue that I don't want."

Lex's face softened. "I know, angel." He caressed Clark's cheek and sighed. "Tell me about your dreams."

Sniffing, Clark said, "They started right after I saw the disk. It's just like when I was a kid: I'm alone somewhere, lost. I can see my parents--all four of them, now--walking away from me. And when I call to them, they don't hear."

"Why haven't you called me, Clark? You know I'm always here for you if you need to talk; especially when you're having nightmares." He began massaging Clark's neck.

Clark relaxed ever so slightly. "You haven't been sleeping well yourself, Lex. I've felt that. I didn't want to dump on you with my stuff."

Lex laughed. "This is always our problem, isn't it? You don't want to bother me, I don't want to bother you, and in the meantime, we're both miserable. I think we need to try something new."

"From now on we tell each other everything?" Clark mumbled, feeling sleepy.

"Yeah. We'll do that." Lex kissed his hair, then rested his cheek on Clark's head, caressing his back.

The tenseness and fear that Clark had been carrying with him for the past few days began to dissipate, and he relaxed in his boyfriend's arm. Eyes falling shut, Clark allowed himself to be lulled by the sound of Lex's heartbeat and breathing. He could tell that he was falling asleep, and didn't care. He was comfortable, and happy.

Sometime later, there was a brief flash of light, then Martha rapped on the window. "Boys?"

Clark stirred. Somehow, he and Lex had shifted positions slightly. The seat had been lowered, and Lex was curled in his lap, forehead pressed into Clark's neck, arms twined around his waist. Clark's own hands were cradling Lex against him, holding his body tenderly.

Martha knocked on the window again. "Clark? Lex?"

"What?" Lex groaned, sitting up.

"My mom." Clark rolled down the window. "Yeah, Mom?"

Martha was holding the digital camera Lex had given them for Christmas, looking fondly at the image on the screen. "You two are adorable," she told them, showing them the picture. "But if you wanted to nap, I think you would have been more comfortable inside."

"Believe me, this wasn't a planned thing," Lex said ruefully, rubbing his neck.

Clark tried to work the kink out for him, massaging gently. "Did you need something, Mom?"

"Dinner's ready. Come inside and wash up."

Lex was sitting up now, rubbing his eyes. When he checked his watch, he shook his head. "I can't stay. I have some work to do."

"No even for dinner? Really, Lex, I know you're busy, but you need to keep your strength up."

"Mrs. Kent..."

"Out of the car and into the house, young man. Now."

Lex flushed and climbed out of the car. Clark followed him, and took Lex's hand.

Martha beamed. "That's better. Make sure you both wash up before you come to the table. And, Clark, I need you to set the table."

"Ok," Clark said, feeling happier than he had all week. He took Lex's hand and started for the house.

"I do have work," Lex said softly.

"Yeah, well, Moms are stronger than work. They'll win every time."

"So I'm learning."

Martha, who was walking next to Clark, just laughed.

________________________________________

Whitney was in the middle of an uncomfortable family dinner--the last before he shipped out--when the doorbell rang. He tried to hide his relieved sigh as he placed his napkin on the table next to his plate.

"I'll get it. You all can stay and continue your conversation," he said, glancing around the table at his relatives.

His mother nodded and gave him a wan smile. "It's probably one of your friends."

"Yeah." Of course, none of his friends were really interested in dropping by, but Whitney wasn't going to tell his mother that. Sure, at school they acted jazzed at his decision; it made him exciting and a little exotic. Not only was he joining the Marines and leaving to fight evil, but he was getting out of school early.

Whitney was interesting, but not enough to give up Friday night dates for. And his mother wanted to have one final family dinner before he left. Her sister was still in town, and all their relatives--save the aunt who was no longer talking to him--had driven in from Metropolis to be with him. No one wanted him to leave, especially not to the Marines. They were tentatively supportive, but there was a dark and heavy cloud over the table as everyone contemplated on what Whitney could be facing in the very near future.

It was all very depressing.

Oh, great, Whitney thought dourly when he opened the door. Lex Luthor. Just what he needed tonight.

"Mr. Luthor?"

Lex turned from his contemplation of the empty street and smiled very faintly. "Whitney."

When Lex didn't say anything more, Whitney asked "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Apparently you already have," Lex responded, his voice even.

Uncomfortable under those cold blue eyes, Whitney ran a hand through his hair. "Look, if this is about Clark..."

"Yes, this is about Clark. And my father." Lex tilted his head and looked over Whitney appraisingly. "You helped Clark get away from him, and I'm grateful for that."

"It was no problem," Whitney answered.

Lex laughed lightly. "You stood up to my father. I've seen grown men reduced to quivering lumps of Jell-O, yet you seemed to have come out fine. What's more, you got Clark away from him. It wasn't 'no problem.'"

"Uh, ok."

There was a short pause before Lex said, "Clark's worried about you."

Whitney nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you worried?"

A frown creasing his forehead, Whitney shrugged. "I wouldn't say I was worried. Nervous, yes, but... I don't know. Excited."

Lex nodded and ran his fingers lightly over the porch railing. "I don't have extensive contacts with the military, but I do have a few. I understand that you're worried about college and your education, as well as being stuck in Smallville. I also realize that while for some, the military is a dream, for many others, it can feel like the only way out. Particularly for people who feel as if they are trapped."

"What's your point?" Whitney asked, his voice sharp. He could see where Lex was going, and didn't like it.

As if catching the quiet anger, Lex looked up with a raised eyebrow. He studied Whitney for a moment. "I'm just making sure that you're aware that you have other options. Even at this late date."

Whitney cleared his throat. "I'm glad to know that, Mr. Luthor, but... no. Joining the Marines is what I want. I'll get to college eventually, but right now this is what I need."

After a pause, Lex asked, "You're sure?"

"Yes." Whitney shifted his weight, fingers moving with pent-up energy. "Look," he finally said, "if Clark sent you..."

"He didn't," Lex interrupted. "But he is worried about you. I thought maybe I could reward you for what you did, and ease his mind all at once." His lips twitched. "I don't like you, but he does. And I would do anything for him."

"Really?"

His eyes flashed, making him look dangerous. "Of course." His voice was hard, as if daring Whitney to step over the line.

Unafraid, Whitney met Lex's hard gaze steadily. His heart was pounding even more than it had been when he'd stared down Lionel Luthor. The elder Luthor was terrifying only because Whitney knew exactly how powerful he was. Not only was he the CEO of one of the biggest corporations in America, but he had an air of absolute power wrapped around him tightly. Whitney was certain that, given the provocation, Lionel Luthor wouldn't hesitate to ruin Whitney's life.

Which was what Whitney had been waiting for during the past few days. He was sure that one didn't just stand up to Lionel Luthor like that, take away his latest... toy, and walk away unscathed. Whitney just hoped that when Luthor made his move, the only one who'd be hurt was him, and not his family or anyone else he cared about.

However, Lionel Luthor wasn't here now. Instead, Whitney was gazing into the eyes of his son. And, at the moment, the son was the more dangerous one. After all, Whitney was in love with Lex's lover.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Take care of him. I mean, I know I have no right to ask that, but... I need to. Since I can't have him, I need to know that he'll be taken care of."

The mask over Lex's expression cracked ever so slightly, allowing humanity to seep through. "I always do," Lex said. "Even if it takes me awhile, I take care of him."

"Good."

Lex nodded once, then said, "Well. When you come home, contact me. I'll set something up for you."

"I don't need a reward."

"Which means you deserve one," Lex said softly, a small smile playing over his lips. He nodded one more, then turned and walked away.

Whitney watched him go, breathing a sigh of relief. Then, he went back inside to face his family.

________________________________________

It was nearly eight thirty when Lex made it home. He went directly to his office, wanting to get some work done before he succumbed to exhaustion. The plans for the buy-out were coming together, but Lex needed to make sure each and every detail was in place before he met with the Board of Directors on Monday.

"Damien," Lex greeted with a short nod.

Damien was sitting on the couch, a file in his lap. He was yawing as Lex stepped into the room, head tilted back, eyes half closed, knuckles of his right hand covering his mouth.

"You look tired." Lex sat in a chair across from Damien and rubbed his eyes wearily.

"That would be the lack of sleep," Damien said after a moment. "You, on the other hand, look rested."

Lex shrugged. "I managed to sneak in a nap earlier, when I drove Clark home. Of course, it was in the car, so now my neck is knotted up." Lex rubbed the juncture of his neck and shoulder, trying to ease some of the tightness.

"Have you eaten?"

"Yes; Martha Kent made me stay for dinner and have two helpings of everything. She wouldn't let me leave the table until I was done. She's scary."

"You still haven't gained back the weight you lost earlier this month; I'm glad she forced you to eat. I've been too preoccupied to make sure you were doing so." He handed a file he was holding to Lex. "Most of the employees have agreed to your plan. Gabe Sullivan, Martin Ramsey, and Gail Abbot are the only ones who are still unsure."

He studied the figures in the file, nodding absently. "I'll drop by their houses tomorrow, and talk to them."

The door opened and Richard, the newest head of security, walked across the room. "Mr. Luthor. Mr. Walters." He nodded in greeting at Lex as he handed Damien some papers. "This is the day's security report."

"Very good. Has the night crew checked in and swept the grounds?"

"They're doing so now."

"Don't leave until they have checked in again."

Richard nodded. "Yes, sir." He left the room quickly.

"I will get you proper security if I have to run everything myself," Damien muttered as he glanced over the report.

"Just think: when Clark moves in someday, you won't have to worry as much."

He snorted. "One would think that with your mental connection I wouldn't need to worry even with him living at the farm. And yet, you keep managing to disappear and get hurt." He frowned suddenly. "Were you aware Roger Nixon came to see you earlier?"

Alert, Lex sat up. "No. When?"

"Around five."

"I wasn't here. Fuck." Lex rubbed the bridge of his nose. "He knows about Clark. I'm not sure exactly what he knows, but he knows something. Earlier today, Nixon cornered Clark in the Talon and requested an interview. And Clark thinks Nixon caused the Kent's truck to blow up the other day, while Clark was in it." He dropped his hand and looked at Damien.

His assistant was gazing at him with a neutral expression. "He's become a liability."

Lex nodded. "I can't control him. Threatening doesn't work, and right now, I don't really have time to deal with him."

Damien nodded slowly. "Don't worry about Nixon, sir. He is no longer your problem."

"What..."

"I'd rather you not concern yourself with what may happen to him, sir," Damien interrupted. "If everything goes well, then it won't matter anyway. If not... then it's best you be able to deny any knowledge."

"Christ," Lex breathed softly. "I never wanted this."

"No," Damien agreed. "But you are prepared to deal with the problem as necessary. Or, in this case, not deal with it."

Feeling very cold, Lex gazed off into the corner of the room. "Yes," he answered after a long moment. "I guess I am."

________________________________________

Whitney's steps grew heavy as he and Lana left the gym, hand in hand. He didn't remember taking her hand, or her taking his. It'd just happened, somewhere between them finishing their dance and walking into the hall.

"Thank you for doing this with me," Whitney said after a moment, squeezing her hand gently. "You really didn't have to."

Lana shrugged and smiled that small smile of hers. "It's fine. I wanted to."

"But you're missing the dance."

She shrugged again. "I wanted to go with you. I know we're not together anymore, but you've always been a good friend. And I want to be with you right now."

Whitney nodded. "Thanks."

People were beginning to show up for the dance. Whitney could tell from the way Lana's eyes lingered on the girls in their dresses that she was a bit jealous, but didn't say anything. He hadn't asked her to come along with him; she'd just shown up on his doorstep that morning. And, besides, even if Lana really wanted to be with him before he left, it didn't mean that part of her did still want to go to the dance. Hell, a part of Whitney still wanted to go, too, just because he knew that this was it. His childhood was officially over when he stepped on that bus and there would be more formals like this in his future.

But, he didn't regret his decision at all. He was proud of it, in fact. Certain that he was doing the right thing. He wasn't going to regret not being able to go to the dance because, in the end, it wasn't all that important.

Clark and Chloe walked in the door, laughing and looking at each other happily. Both Lana and Whitney stopped in their tracks.

Next to him, Lana sighed. When Whitney glanced over at her, he saw an almost dreamy expression in her eyes as she gazed at the pair. He realized that she must have a crush on Clark, and felt a little sorry for her.

The happy light in Clark's eyes dimmed just a bit when he saw Whitney. Whitney cursed himself for staying at the school for so long. He'd sent over a good-bye note that morning, thinking it would be easier for him if he didn't have to see Clark. He'd hoped that Clark would read it, file it away, then forget about it so he could have a good time at the dance.

Ok, so maybe Whitney had dawdled at the school with the subconscious intent of seeing Clark one more time. After all, Whitney was going away to the Marines. He wouldn't see Clark for a long time, and he wanted to have one last mental image to savor while he was away.

Being in love sucked.

Whitney couldn't move. He stood in the center of the hall, watching at Clark and Chloe made their way down the hall. He felt trapped.

Stopping in front of Whitney and Lana, Clark cleared his throat. "So, uh, Whitney. I guess this is it."

Whitney forced himself to nod. "Yeah."

"Hey, Chloe, could you... uh, could you..." Pete said suddenly, appearing from seemingly nowhere.

His date, Erica, took a camera from Pete's hand and said, "He wants you to take our picture."

"Sure. I'll be right back, Clark," Chloe said, tenderly wiping some rain off his face.

"I'll come with you," Lana said suddenly. "I'll just be a moment."

Whitney nodded. "Sounds good."

When they were alone, Clark rubbed his bottom lip pensively. "You weren't even going to say good-bye to me."

"Clark... Let's go somewhere private, ok?" He gently touched Clark's arm, then turned and walked into an empty classroom.

Clark followed and closed the door.

"I thought it would be easier," Whitney said, facing Clark.

"For who?"

"Me. I was afraid I'd... I don't know. That it'd be to too hard for me to see you. And I didn't know if you'd be upset or not, so I thought I shouldn't take the chance and ruin your day."

Clark shook his head. "It was worse when I thought I wasn't going to get a chance to say good-bye."

Whitney sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, Clark. I was being selfish. I didn't want to have to say good-bye. It's too final."

"I'm sorry I hurt you," Clark said in a soft voice.

"You didn't," Whitney assured him, looking up. "And I don't regret anything. Well, I regret scaring you, but that's it. Nothing else. Not the time we spent together, not the hours of peace you brought me when things got rough. Not falling in love with you, even though you're with someone else. Nothing."

Clark's eyes were wide, mouth hanging open slightly. "You... you're in love me?"

After a moment's hesitation, Whitney nodded. "Yeah."

"I didn't... mean to..."

Whitney crossed the room quickly and put his hands on Clark's shoulders. "You didn't do anything, Clark. All you did was be yourself. And that's fine; my heart did what it wanted without your direction or permission. I'm glad it did." He bit his lip, then leaned forward and kissed Clark's forehead, stomach clenching painfully as he did. "Watch out for Lana for me," he whispered against Clark's skin. "She needs to be taken care of."

Clark's hands came up as if to push Whitney away. Surprisingly, he just held onto Whitney's forearms, eyes squeezed shut. "Yeah. I will."

"And take care of yourself, too." Whitney pulled back, and held Clark's by the chin lightly.

Clark opened his eyes, a myriad of emotions clouding the normally clear blue. He nodded slowly. "Ok."

"Will you write me?"

"Of course. I'll, uh, keep you up with everything that's going on. I promise."

He smiled. "Good." For one moment, Whitney closed his eyes and drank Clark in. He pushed aside all rational thought to live in this one last moment where he could be near Clark, feel his body heat, smell the clean, strong scent, feel...

Whitney's eyes flew open when Clark's lips connected with his. He made a sound in his throat, not moving, not sure what he should do. Clark's eyes were closed, lips moving softly against Whitney's and, finally, Whitney surrendered, falling into the kiss, taking this gift that Clark was giving.

And then it was over. Clark released Whitney and pulled away, a blush staining his cheeks. "Take care of yourself, Whitney."

Not trusting himself to speak, Whitney nodded, running his eyes over Clark so he could have this one last image in his mind that he would never forget. Then, as Clark opened his mouth to say something, Whitney whispered a hoarse, "Goodbye," and left quickly.

Lana was waiting for him. Without a word, or another backwards glance, Whitney took Lana's hand and left the school. They climbed into his truck and drove away, leaving Clark behind.

________________________________________

Chloe sighed and closed her eyes as she swayed gently in Clark's arms. So far, everything had been going perfectly: her hair, her dress, Clark, the dance. Her favorite song was even playing, courtesy of Clark's request. And now they were together on the floor, his arms around her, holding her. Keeping her safe.

For a moment, Chloe allowed herself to pretend that she belonged there. She willed away the thought of Lex, Sydney, and Lana. She pretended that Clark had asked her to come not because they were friends, but because they were in love, and now they were dancing to their song. Chloe even allowed herself to extend the fantasy, until she and Clark were at their wedding, their friends around them, dancing their first dance as husband and wife.

She sighed again. It might be nice, but it wasn't going to happen. And Chloe could accept that. Most days, she didn't even want it anymore, especially not with Sydney calling her every night. But, some dreams die harder than others, and there was no reason not to give into fantasy once in a while.

And then, the dream ended.

"Can I have your attention, please?" the Assistant Principal asked.

Reluctantly, Chloe and Clark pulled away from each other and faced the stage.

"The National Weather Service has just issued a tornado warning. Apparently three funnels have been spotted heading toward Smallville. Now, uh, please, everyone stay calm. The twisters are going to set down south of here, but for your own safety, no one will be allowed to leave the gym."

Dread hit Chloe so hard that she literally stumbled backward. She closed her eyes, pressing one hand into her stomach as she tried to breathe.

Clark caught her quickly. "What is it?" he asked.

"The bus station is south of here," she said numbly. "Lana's there."

"I'm sure she's gone now," Clark said slowly. "She was just dropping him off, right?"

When Chloe looked up, she could read the panic in his eyes, and knew that he felt the same way she did. Only... only Clark could do something about it. Clark could save her. He'd saved Chloe, he must be able to save Lana too.

She took a deep breath. "I, uh. Maybe I should call her. I have my cell phone."

A look of relief passed through Clark's eyes. "Yeah, call her. Good idea."

"Yeah." Taking a deep breath, Chloe turned and began weaving through the crowed.

There was a faint sound next to her ear, and a small gust of wind. When Chloe turned around, Clark was gone.

________________________________________

Clark raced down the road, barely feeling the wind as it whipped against him. He couldn't tell if he was going faster or not, but he could tell that he was against it. Normally when he ran, the wind was light and airy on his face; right now, it was heavier. And it was coming at him from all sides, which was unusual; normally, it was just from the front.

Chloe would understand why he'd gone. Hopefully, he'd be back before the storm was over, with Lana safely at home. He'd needed to call Lex, too; the mansion was south of the school, too, and it wasn't as if the Assistant Principal had given the exact coordinates of where the tornados were setting down.

Lex!

A jolt of fear ran through Clark as he realized that the mansion was south of the school, and he didn't know where the funnels were.

He opened his mind quickly. _Lex?_

Lex's mind was in turmoil, his thoughts confused and jumbled. There was pain too, physical pain that lanced through Lex so sharply that Clark lost his footing and fell to the road.

 _Lex, talk to me!_

 _Clark._ Lex's voice was weak, and he was bleeding and hurt. Clark could feel every place that Lex was injured, from a small bruise on his hip to the large cut gushing blood over his eye.

An answering pain began building in Clark's stomach, a low, simmering fire that demanded that Clark go to Lex now and heal him. Save him, make him feel better and safe.

 _I'm coming._ Lana would have to wait; he couldn't go when Lex needed him.

Somehow, even through his confused mind, Lex caught Clark's thoughts. _No, I'm ok._ His voice was stronger now, the chaos ebbing away. _Hurt, but I'll be fine. Where's Lana?_

Clark rose, wiping the dirt from his face. _I don't know. She might be caught in the storm, but I'm not sure._

 _Go to her first; I'll be fine._

Clark winced as he felt Lex's injured body pull him over the bond. _Lex, I need to get to you._

 _Clark, I'll live. I'm hurt, but not dying. But Lana might be in real trouble if she's out in the storm. Could you live with yourself if you were with me when she died?_

"I ...," Clark said aloud. Then he sent over the bond _Well, I'd survive, but..._

 _I don't need saving right now, angel. She does. Go._

 _But..._

 _ _Go!_ Lex nudged Clark gently, then raised his shields. _

Before Lex's shields were all the way raised, Clark was able to see what was going on at the mansion. Lionel was trapped beneath a pillar, and Lex was going to save him. Maybe.

Maybe Clark should go.

Then, Clark realized that if he went to the mansion, he wouldn't know what to do either. And that scared him more than anything, knowing that he might choose to let Lionel die.

Shaking off the thought, Clark started running again. Lana needed to be helped. And that Clark could do without any second thought.


End file.
